


Ja'hailir

by SailorSol



Series: Uncommon Valor [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Neyo gets some hugs, Neyo needs all the hugs, Pudding Cups, Reunions, War is hell, emotional breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26075890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorSol/pseuds/SailorSol
Summary: Colt could recognize a brother on the edge of crisis. Nine months into the war, he had seen it plenty of times within the shattered remains of what was now Rancor Battalion. There was a set to the shoulders, a distance in their gaze, and he held himself like he was the last floundering line between the men inside the transport behind him and probable death ahead. What it took him longer to recognize was the brother himself.***Colt and Neyo reunite for the first time since childhood.
Relationships: Colt (Star Wars) & CC-8812|Neyo
Series: Uncommon Valor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893043
Comments: 28
Kudos: 105
Collections: Open Source Soft Wars





	Ja'hailir

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in Projie's Soft Wars universe, more or less. 
> 
> A million thanks to CmonCmon for listening to me complain and betaing this. And the Soft Wars Discord for encouraging me. Oya!

Colt could recognize a brother on the edge of crisis. Nine months into the war, he had seen it plenty of times within the shattered remains of what was now Rancor Battalion. There was a set to the shoulders, a distance in their gaze, and he held himself like he was the last floundering line between the men inside the transport behind him and probable death ahead. What it took him longer to recognize was the brother himself.

At first glance, he thought it was Fox. The colors on the armor were right for the Guard, but the styling was wrong; mostly white, with one red pauldron and the same red circle with inverted white sword bisecting it on the helmet, chest plate, right arm, and right thigh. But as far as Colt knew, Fox was safe on Coruscant, and would have commed if he was coming to Kamino.

91st Recon, then. They were one of three units he was expecting. But that definitely wasn’t Ponds coming down the ramp of the transport, helmet tucked under one arm. Colt sucked in a sharp inhale, glad he still had his own bucket on to hide his expression.

_Neyo_.

It had been five, maybe six years since the last time Colt had exchanged more than required pleasantries with his squad mate. Not since shortly after Priest had stolen him away during their third cycle. Spending time with the younger cadets in his new post, Colt couldn’t believe how small the Thirds really were. 

Seeing Neyo now, hair still slicked back in his preferred style but with dark shadows under eyes that darted around in wary observation, Colt almost didn’t recognize his brother. The vod scanned the platform, and despite being taller and sporting dark stubble along his chin, Colt would know the set of those shoulders and the tilt of the head as Neyo's. He had seen it a thousand times before, in training missions and trouble-making alike.

He crossed the platform in several quick strides, reaching out to pull Neyo into a hug. Neyo flinched away. Colt stopped short. It took most of his willpower not to curse or turn around and hunt Dred Priest down, instead slipping off his bucket so Neyo could see his face.

“Hey, vod’ika. It’s been a while,” Colt said, offering his free hand. This close, it was easier to see the tension in Neyo’s stance, the way his weight rested on the balls of his feet, ready for action at a moment’s notice. Colt smiled and waited until Neyo finally reached out and clasped his forearm in greeting.

“Colt,” Neyo said slowly, like he was tasting the word for the first time. His grip on Colt’s arm tightened briefly enough to be written off as a spasm, but he didn’t let go. Colt squeezed briefly in return, feeling the tremble run through Neyo’s shoulders and arms. Even with all the years between them, Colt could see that his brother was on the edge of falling apart.

“Let’s head inside. There are rooms set up for your men, and you can all get showers and something to eat.”

“I’d rather just resupply and head out, if it’s all the same to you,” Neyo replied, finally dropping Colt’s arm. It was an attempt on Neyo’s part to sound casual and unaffected, but the tense set of his shoulders belied his tone. “It’s a long enough trip from here to Mygeeto as it is.”

Colt tried not to scowl. He understood the urge to get back out there, but he could also see that Neyo and the rest of his men needed a lot more than just a night of recovery before jumping back into hyperspace and behind enemy lines. “We weren’t expecting you for another day. Your new men will be ready in the morning. The food here has gotten marginally better, and there’s plenty of hot water. Come set a good example.” Colt took a chance and put a hand on Neyo’s shoulder, half guiding him inside. There was a moment of resistance, and Colt wasn’t sure what he would do if Neyo decided not to cooperate. Fortunately he wouldn’t need to find out, as Neyo allowed Colt to maneuver him.

Colt guided the group towards the mess hall, pointing out the seating area set aside for the officers before pulling Neyo into line. He didn’t miss the way Neyo scanned the crowd of younger vode, eyes picking out exits. Colt and his men had done the same after first arriving on Kamino. This should have felt like a safe place, but Neyo was too fresh from battle. Trays in hand, Colt let Neyo choose where they sat.

“So. Mygeeto?” Colt asked, keeping his tone carefully neutral. If Neyo was as close to falling apart as it seemed, Colt didn’t want to push too hard. Not until he’d gotten his brother to eat first, and then found somewhere private. Unfortunately, his choice of topics was limited. “That’s on the far side of Coruscant, yeah?”

“Out past Ord Mantell,” Neyo said. “Almost to Muunilinst off the Braxant Run.”

Colt pulled up a mental map of the galaxy, piecing together what he knew of the different fronts. “That’s a contested area, yeah?”

“Technically behind the lines,” Neyo said, stabbing at his protein cube with a viciousness most vode reserved for battle droids. “Nova Corps is still out there. Desperate for reinforcements.”

Ah.

Colt kept his face blank as he cut into his own protein. “We’ll have you back out there soon enough.”

“Not soon enough.” Neyo shoved his tray away with a scowl. He hadn’t actually eaten any of the food. “We’re wasting time, Colt.”

Colt followed Neyo to their feet, grabbing the pudding cups from both their trays. He nodded towards Hammer with a head tilt towards Neyo and a silent request for him to take care of things. Hammer signed his acknowledgment. Arguing about food wasn’t going to make things any better right now, and the truth was, Colt didn’t know Neyo well enough anymore to know how hard he could push.

“Let’s walk, vod,” Colt said. The cadets had started to learn that particular tone wasn’t a request; Neyo seemed to recognize that as well, falling in step with Colt. Neither spoke as they moved through the halls, nodding at other members of Rancor and returning salutes from cadets as they passed. Colt kept one hand in the small of Neyo’s back, guiding him. There were other rooms that he could have brought Neyo to, but he headed for his own. It wasn’t exactly spacious, but it was private; more importantly, he hoped Neyo would feel safer.

He set the pudding cups and his bucket down and gestured for Neyo to do the same, then started shucking his armor. “There’s a fresher through there,” he said, pointing. He kept his voice even, the way he would talk to one of his troopers after a nightmare. Steady, measured, a reference point for the here and now. “I only have to share it with Blitz, and he won’t be around for a few more hours. I’ve got a pair of blacks you can borrow for the night. If you toss yours in the laundry chute, they’ll be ready by morning.”

Neyo hadn’t moved from just inside the door, statue-still but ready to attack at a moment’s notice. Colt continued to remove bracers and greaves. He didn’t push Neyo, just let silent expectation fill the room until his brother finally started to down dress. He exhaled carefully as Neyo’s armor was set aside. He was dancing along a razor’s edge, and he didn’t want Neyo to fall without being able to catch him. Down to his own blacks, Colt pulled a fresh towel and a change of clothes from his wardrobe. If he did this right, he could get Neyo clean and comfortable first.

Neyo peeled off his top, and Colt tried not to stare. It wasn’t that nudity was taboo among the vode; they were clones, after all. Every brother had scars; more and more were from battlefields across the galaxy. The ones criss-crossing Neyo’s body didn’t look fresh enough to have been acquired since the start of the war. Colt pushed down the urge to hunt down Priest and him into the ocean once again. He needed to focus on Neyo right now; Priest could wait.

Neyo ghosted into the fresher, and Colt took the opportunity to send a message to Blitz and Havoc to let them know he wouldn’t be available for the night. He considered sending a message to Fox and Gree, but he wasn’t sure what he would say to them; Neyo was not a topic they discussed very often. He pulled up the precis on Mygeeto instead.

There didn’t seem to be anything special about the planet. It was basically a giant ball of ice; a giant ball of ice that happened to be a rich source of crystals and precious metals. He scowled as he looked at the conditions. There were only a handful of cities, which seemed to only oversee the crystal mines, and the rest of the planet was just one long, miserable snow storm. Its only strategic value came from the presence of the Banking Clan. His brothers were fighting and dying over a few shiny rocks and money they’d never get to see for themselves.

Far too quickly for his liking, Neyo returned. Colt had hoped he might take the time to enjoy the hot water and the chance to unwind. The borrowed blacks were loose when they should have been skin tight, and it really hit Colt how differently they had been raised. They had been the same size, once upon a time. Colt didn’t consider himself bulky, being built more for light infantry, but Neyo’s leaner build made him look almost small in comparison. Even most scouts Colt knew were broader, despite being built for stealth. But he supposed the speed and agility a leaner frame afforded Neyo was an advantage the trainers had been interested in.

There was only one chair at the small desk, so Colt maneuvered Neyo to the bed. He considered for a moment wrapping the blanket around Neyo’s shoulders, but he didn’t think his brother would take that well in the moment. He fetched one of the pudding cups instead, peeling the foil lid off before handing it to Neyo. 

“What’s this?” Neyo asked, taking the pudding cup and spoon with a suspicious look.

“Chocolate pudding.” Colt kept his expression bland. “General Ti encouraged its introduction into the meal plan as a good source of additional calories in a non-traditional form, similar to what might be encountered in the field, to ensure the cadets would not experience gastrointestinal distress.” Neyo gave him a flat look in return. “Try it. You’ll like it.”

Neyo sniffed at it dubiously before scooping some onto the spoon. “If this is some kind of trick...”

“Eat the karking pudding, Neyo.”

Neyo raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. Colt watched his expression change from one of trepidation to one of amazement. “The Kaminiise actually bought that bantha osik?”

“It’s not like they realize it’s actually a treat,” Colt said. He peeled the second cup open and held it out for Neyo when he started scraping the bottom of the first.

Neyo hesitated. “That one’s yours.”

“I get them every day,” Colt said. He held it out until Neyo finally traded it for the empty one, practically inhaling its contents. “Have you eaten at all in the last week?”

“What do I look like, a tubie?” Neyo asked. “Force, I’d forgotten how much of a mother hen you could be.”

Colt shrugged. “Somebody had to keep you and Fox in line.” He considered sending for a tray of food or fetching one of the ration bars he kept stashed in the desk, but a comm chimed from the direction of Neyo’s armor. 

He scowled but fetched his vambrace, keying up the message. Colt set about straightening the room out a bit to give Neyo a bit of privacy.

“ _Ad be hut’uun_!” Neyo swore. He turned in time to see Neyo throwing his vambrace at the wall. Colt heard the plastoid crack as Neyo started pacing with short, agitated strides. “ _Kyorla agol be shebs be'striili_!”

Colt raised an eyebrow. “Bad news?”

“Those _shabla di’kutla sheb’urcyine_ changed my orders,” Neyo snarled. He picked up one of his boots and threw that as well. 

When it looked like he was going for the chair next, Colt intervened, stepping forward to put a hand on Neyo’s shoulder. Neyo grabbed his wrist and twisted Colt’s arm into a lock. He grimaced and bit back the sharp exhale of pain; Colt was an idiot for thinking Neyo would take that well. But this was a level of escalation that had to be stopped, and Colt knew with a cold certainty that Neyo wouldn’t respond to a careful request.

“Hold,” Colt snapped, feeling Neyo go tense and ease some of the pressure on Colt’s arm, but he didn’t let go. “Stand down,” he ordered, his tone sharp but necessary. That got Neyo to back off, shoulders hunched in just slightly but eyes fixed forward. Like someone expecting to be hit. 

_Karking Priest_. He bit back the urge to sigh in frustration at himself. He couldn’t treat Neyo like one of his Rancor men, like the tactile brother he remembered from when they had been cadets. Neyo might not have been armed, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous. Colt would have to adapt the usual techniques.

He stepped into Neyo’s space so he’d have to look at Colt, but didn’t touch him. Not yet. Not until some recognition came back to his brother’s eyes. 

“What did the message say.” No questions, just orders.

“Valor Company has been ordered to report to Felucia upon completion of resupply on Kamino,” Neyo said, his voice too flat.

“What was the original plan.”

“Resupply and return to support Nova Corps on Mygeeto.” He’d wavered just slightly there; Colt was relieved to see the barest hint of emotion that wasn’t just anger. Lashing out had not been Neyo’s style when they had been younger, and it had left Colt unsettled.

Colt considered his next words carefully. “You disagree with your orders.” 

Neyo _flinched_ , but his response was immediate and automatic. “No, sir.”

“Look at me,” Colt ordered, waiting until Neyo focused on him. “I’m going to put my hands on your shoulders. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Neyo said, too quickly for it to be true, but he held himself still as Colt reached out to touch him.

“Good. Now. You would rather return to Mygeeto. Why?”

Colt felt the barest of trembles in Neyo's shoulders, slight enough that it probably wouldn't have been noticeable if he hadn't been exposed without his armor. It took him several long seconds before he finally answered, but Colt waited patiently. "Our position was being overrun. Armored infantry vehicles were compromised. The order came to fall back, form up defenses. We were down to two thousand by then, from the original five. I was ordered to withdraw, to bring in additional troops. _Cabur_ \--" Here, Neyo flinched again, the trembled becoming more noticeable. He was on the razor's edge of breaking, now. "CC-1138 estimated Nova could hold the position for a little over a tenday. Enough time for reinforcements to get back. But now..."

But now Neyo wouldn’t be going back. The change in orders was a death sentence for the Marines. The Brass really were useless as Neyo had said. It shouldn’t have surprised Colt anymore, not after his own experience of watching his own men fall while no one seemed to give a damn. But to just leave that many vode behind enemy lines to be slaughtered was nearly unthinkable.

“So many dead,” Neyo whispered. His shoulders had dropped from rigid attention, curling inwards. “The droids just didn’t stop coming. I brought 144 men with me to Mygeeto, Colt. I left with less than half of that. We were there for two months. I couldn’t even go back for their bodies.”

Colt shifted one hand to the back of Neyo’s neck, pulling his brother close so their foreheads pressed together, Neyo’s eyes squeezing shut. This was something Colt understood, a bitter common ground they now shared after so many years apart. He knew the pain of watching men fall, men that he had been responsible for, who would only live on in the memories of the survivors, while there were still survivors to remember them. He would have given nearly anything to spare Neyo from this.

“Oh, Neyo.” There were no words for a moment like this, that moment of breaking.

Neyo let out a ragged noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I wasn’t trained for this, Colt. I don’t--If he doesn’t--” He paused, a shudder passing through him. “If _they_ die, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

_He_. There was someone Neyo had left behind. Not someone from Valor, they had all returned with Neyo to Kamino. But this was about more than just duty to his men; this was personal for him. Colt wished there were reassurances he could offer his brother, but he refused to lie to a vod.

Instead, he guided them towards his bunk, not letting go of Neyo until he had to maneuver his brother down, Colt following a moment later to pull Neyo close. “I’ve got you, vod’ika,” Colt said, rubbing Neyo’s back. Finally, he let go, shaking apart with muffled sobs.

_He_. Neyo cared about someone. There was a sense of relief, knowing Neyo hadn’t been alone all these years, but Colt worried what losing them might do to him. And Neyo would be gone again come morning, back to the front lines beyond Colt’s reach. He might only get this one night to try and pull together some of Neyo’s jagged edges in the hopes that it would be enough until next time. 

Colt had to believe there would be a next time, and a time after that, that there would be a chance for Neyo and Colt and Gree and Fox to all be together again in this lifetime.

For tonight, he would hold Neyo like they were still cadets, let him fall apart and help put him back together. Just the two of them, with no war or death or _demagolka_ trainers. He stayed awake long after Neyo’s shoulders stopped shaking and his sobs quieted into the soft breaths of sleep. He might not be able to be out there in the field with Neyo, but for one night, he could watch his back.

**Author's Note:**

> Ja’hailir - To watch over  
> Ad be hut’uun - Son of a coward  
> Kyorla agol be shebs be'striili - Rotten flesh of a strill’s backside  
> Shabla di’kutla sheb’urcyine - Screwed up, useless butt-kissers  
> Cabur - Protector
> 
> CC-1138 is Bacara, who has not yet chosen a name for himself at this point.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Edee's Foundling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26125915) by [mielipieli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mielipieli/pseuds/mielipieli)




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